 | Lectures on art, and poems |  |
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THE MARIGOLD.
INSCRIBED TO MISS M--- E--- D---.
Erewhile it chanced two wandering Rays,—
So then deposed a moon-struck Painter,—
Met on a cloud his upward gaze;
One dazzling bright, the other fainter.
Then came a strain so small and wild,
'T was like the sobs of fairy child
Lost in a rose; and then it streamed
Like distant bells; then,—else he dreamed,—
It language took; and thus it seemed:
So then deposed a moon-struck Painter,—
Met on a cloud his upward gaze;
One dazzling bright, the other fainter.
Then came a strain so small and wild,
'T was like the sobs of fairy child
Lost in a rose; and then it streamed
Like distant bells; then,—else he dreamed,—
It language took; and thus it seemed:
“Ho! brilliant Brother! tell me how”—
“Nay, radiant Sister, tell me rather
How one so well beloved as thou
Could ever leave our royal Father?”
“He left me in the watery bow,
And sank so quick the sea below,
I lost my way, and bent my flight
To this high cloud, lest haply Night
Should quench on earth my feeble light.”
“Nay, radiant Sister, tell me rather
How one so well beloved as thou
Could ever leave our royal Father?”
“He left me in the watery bow,
And sank so quick the sea below,
I lost my way, and bent my flight
To this high cloud, lest haply Night
Should quench on earth my feeble light.”
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“Dear, modest Topaz, say not so;
Beside you star thou seem'st another,—
And brighter of the two, I trow!”
“But say, kind, dazzling Ruby Brother,
Why meet we in a place so drear?”
“O, how miscalled while thou art here,
Whose glory tracks thy very name!”
“Nay, truant flatterer, cease, for shame!”
“Then, gentle Sister, know, I came
To edge this curtain-cloud with flame;
Beside you star thou seem'st another,—
And brighter of the two, I trow!”
“But say, kind, dazzling Ruby Brother,
Why meet we in a place so drear?”
“O, how miscalled while thou art here,
Whose glory tracks thy very name!”
“Nay, truant flatterer, cease, for shame!”
“Then, gentle Sister, know, I came
To edge this curtain-cloud with flame;
“But scarce had I my task begun,
When here I found a group of Azure
Changing my fringe to purple dun;—
They said it was the Sun's good pleasure.
I knew 't was false,—the dastard Rays!—
And gave them battle. Soon my blaze
'Gan curl o'er each devoted head:
Anon they burnt to dusky red,
Then ashy gray,—and then they fled.
When here I found a group of Azure
Changing my fringe to purple dun;—
They said it was the Sun's good pleasure.
I knew 't was false,—the dastard Rays!—
And gave them battle. Soon my blaze
'Gan curl o'er each devoted head:
Anon they burnt to dusky red,
Then ashy gray,—and then they fled.
“And when I turned to join my Sire,
His car was gone, nor 'bove the ocean
Was seen but one faint streak of fire,
Left by its wheels' too rapid motion.
So here I sit, his mourning son,
Paled by the fray, though I had won!”
“Nay, still, bright Brother, droop not so,”
Sweet Topaz said; “for what below,
If we but join, can near us show?
His car was gone, nor 'bove the ocean
Was seen but one faint streak of fire,
Left by its wheels' too rapid motion.
So here I sit, his mourning son,
Paled by the fray, though I had won!”
“Nay, still, bright Brother, droop not so,”
Sweet Topaz said; “for what below,
If we but join, can near us show?
“We'll mingle rays, and down to Earth
Descending with some gentle shower,
There give the world another birth,—
A bright and gorgeous sunny Flower;
So bright, that when the leaden cloud
Of darkling thunder seems to shroud
The land in night, our face so fair
Shall shine upon the murky air
As if a little sun were there!”
Descending with some gentle shower,
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A bright and gorgeous sunny Flower;
So bright, that when the leaden cloud
Of darkling thunder seems to shroud
The land in night, our face so fair
Shall shine upon the murky air
As if a little sun were there!”
“Sweet Topaz, yes,” the Ruby said;
“From thee for worlds I would not vary,
So good and wise thy heart and head;
And we will call the flower Mary;
For once I saw a maiden's eyes
So like the brightness that we prize,
Their light, I'm sure, the name foretold,—
'T was hers,—but still our hue we'll hold.”
“We'll call it, then, the Marigold.”
“From thee for worlds I would not vary,
So good and wise thy heart and head;
And we will call the flower Mary;
For once I saw a maiden's eyes
So like the brightness that we prize,
Their light, I'm sure, the name foretold,—
'T was hers,—but still our hue we'll hold.”
“We'll call it, then, the Marigold.”
“And this our charm no sullen knave,”—
So spake the blending Rays, together,—
“No spirit blue can ever brave
With eastern wind or hazy weather;
For all who look upon us now
Shall feel this name—they know not how—
Linked with a past and pleasant thought;
Some gentle kindness, never bought,—
Some gift of heart, for memory wrought.”
So spake the blending Rays, together,—
“No spirit blue can ever brave
With eastern wind or hazy weather;
For all who look upon us now
Shall feel this name—they know not how—
Linked with a past and pleasant thought;
Some gentle kindness, never bought,—
Some gift of heart, for memory wrought.”
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